


familiar faces watch you (but with a perfect stranger's eyes)

by bumbleb_tch



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Flower tattoos appear wherever your soulmate has cuts or scars, I'm gonna call this the Bloom Au, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Oikawa spends a lot of time on the floor, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Unreliable Narrator, Unreliable Narrator Oikawa Tooru, a little bit of jealous Oikawa too, guess who is really superstitious, if you're superstitious then maybe the flowers mean something, pining!oikawa, technically mutual pining but my boy is very self absorbed so like we have no perspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:42:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25415605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bumbleb_tch/pseuds/bumbleb_tch
Summary: Tooru traced a long finger across vibrant petals painting his right shin in gentle shades of blue. The sight wasn’t terribly surprising, most people these days developed soulbonds sooner or later; a handful of his friends already had theirs. Lucky individuals would fall asleep one night, and wake up the next day with flowers imprinted on their skin to match their soulmate’s cuts and scars.A Scabious flower, wild, delicate petals splayed out in a wide spray- but it’s meaning twisted painfully in his gut, like he’d just taken a volleyball to the stomach during practice.Unfortunate Love.Not the most encouraging symbol for his connection to manifest.---Alternatively- Oikawa reads too much into everything but also he really believes in the power of denialBloom AU, where flower tattoos appear to match their soulmate's cuts and scars
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime & Oikawa Tooru, Kageyama Tobio/Oikawa Tooru, Tendo Satori/Ushijima Wakatoshi (mentioned), There's a lot of background dudes being bros
Comments: 44
Kudos: 478





	familiar faces watch you (but with a perfect stranger's eyes)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovelies <3
> 
> I know I'm still neglecting my WIPs but it's Oikawa's birthday and I /had/ to post this. 
> 
> Shoutout to kagezai, who asked for Pining!Oikawa and I really said turn it up to an 11
> 
> And of course, a big big thank you to my wonderful beta, Papillon10 who indulges me and still betas my Haikyuu scribbles.
> 
> EDIT:   
> [Izumi](https://twitter.com/Iizuumi/status/1291146882970988545) on twitter did some AMAZING art for this fic, please please please check them out and give them some attention for their Oikage content!

  
  


**October 4th** ****

Tooru traced a long finger across vibrant petals painting his right shin in gentle shades of blue. The sight wasn’t terribly surprising, most people these days developed soulbonds sooner or later; a handful of his friends already had theirs. Lucky individuals would fall asleep one night, and wake up the next day with flowers imprinted on their skin to match their soulmate’s cuts and scars. 

Unlucky individuals had no match. His parents were some such unfortunate souls, and though it didn’t seem to openly affect them in one way or another, Oikawa had spent more than one sleepless night considering the nuances of a life without a soul bond. 

(And his potential to "inherit" it.)

His grandmother had been lucky enough to have a soulmate, but unlucky enough to lose him far too young and, in Tooru’s personal opinion, that was the worst fate of all. 

Not that he ever said so. And, despite that tragedy, his favourite childhood memories featured summers in her garden, as she spent hours upon hours glowing with joy and teaching him the language of flowers. Few put much stock in the idea that soulmate tattoos really bore any insight into the connection, but his Obaachan had sworn by it and insisted he would find the information useful later. 

The bitter tang of bile creeping up his throat begged to differ, but he’d never been able to find the will to argue, not when it seemed so important to her- not when he knew that she was just trying to make sure he found what she’d lost as soon as he could.

Tooru also never told her that he wasn’t sure he wanted it to begin with. He would have much preferred the bliss that only ignorance could provide, than the immediate recognition of the bloom on his leg.

A Scabious flower, wild, delicate petals splayed out in a wide spray- but it’s meaning twisted painfully in his gut, like he’d just taken a volleyball to the stomach during practice.

_Unfortunate Love._

Not the most encouraging symbol for his connection to manifest. 

Tooru heaved a sigh, a weight settling across his shoulders as he hauled himself up and pulled on a pair of sweatpants and sneakers, moving in almost a haze until his feet were pounding the pavement in a steady rhythm and his vacant gaze was passing over familiar surroundings without recognition. Early riser wasn’t a word that anyone used to describe Tooru Oikawa; he didn’t see any point in pulling himself out of bed before he absolutely had to. But there was something about the quiet grey of dawn, before the world fully awoke and flooded with life, that soothed the restless soul.

Or it would, if that comforting silence wasn’t intruded upon by one of his least favourite people.

That might be a little harsh of him to say, at least on a normal day, but he felt justified, what with his nerves fraying by the second and the fact that he heard Tobio Kageyama before he actually saw him, the raven-haired teen’s appearance precluded by a series of muffled curses and leaves crunching underfoot. 

Oikawa took a single step back into the shadow of a tree and went entirely still. His pride wouldn’t let him retreat and though he would never admit it, he was praying to any god listening that his streak of misfortune would break for at least this brief moment and allow Kageyama to pass by without noticing his presence.

The day had only just begun but he wasn’t sure he could pull himself together enough to put on the usual cheerful mask if his rival did happen to see him- although it probably wouldn’t take too much to convince “Tobio-chan” to turn tail if it came down to it. 

His luck held as he hovered there, cloaked by the shade of the trees and fading twilight left in dawn's wake. Kageyama passed by without any fuss- although Tooru found himself stifling a mocking scoff when he realized the other boy was wearing shorts despite the chilly air that heralded winter. 

Until his gaze narrowed on a wide patch of scabbing across Kageyama’s right shin, just below his knee. Oikawa sucked a harsh breath between his teeth, the world spinning as he grew lightheaded and his own knees trembled with the threat to collapse. 

Pride be damned, he spun on his heel and sprinted back the way he came, rocketing blindly through the trees on instinct alone. His feet carried him home without any thought, just pounding the ground repetitively until his face was buried in his pillow and he couldn’t feel his legs at all. 

It wasn’t until much later, when he was studying the soft violet blues of the Scabious flower on his leg and happened to let his gaze travel up to the scar curving along the outside of his knee, that Tooru recalled a scarlet bloom curving just above the scabs on Kageyama’s shin, the duality eerily similar.

Enough to turn his stomach.

It was probably a coincidence.

(As if he should be so lucky.) 

If he had to guess, from his hazy memory, the long petaled flower was an Adonis.

_“Sorrowful memories,” a voice that sounded suspiciously like his Obaachan chimed from the recesses of his mind._

Typical. 

Biting back a curse -because he would never disparage his deceased grandmother’s name even if she _had_ cursed him with an overabundance of knowledge about flowers- Tooru yanked his knee brace up and over the scar, concealing it from sight and pushing away the stray thoughts plaguing him. 

\---

**October 4th** ****

**To: Tetsuro Kuroo  
** **Received 06:24** I’m pretty sure Oikawa just sprinted past my house like his mother was chasing him with a sandal.   
**Received 06:25** Come get your mans.  
**Sent 08:30** not my mans  
**Sent 08:31** was he on fire or bleeding  
**Received 08:32** Uh, no?  
**Sent 08:44** he’s fine

\---

**October 19th**

**Group Message (8 Recipients) 14:05** bakayama got his flowers, place your bets

\---

**October 22nd**

**To: (xxx)xxx-xxxx  
** **Received 18:58** r we gonna talk abt the thing on ur knee  
**Received 19:30** dont ignore me  
**Received 19:41** Bakayamaaaaaaaa  
**Received 20:02** if u wont say anything ill text saltyshima and just start guessing who it is  
**Sent 20:05** Blocked  
**Received 20:05** WAIT  
**Received 20:06** JK JK DONT BLOCK ME  
**Received 20:06** I DIDNT MEAN IT  
**Received 20:06** I WONT TELL HIM CMON  
**Received 20:07** T.T

\---

**October 27th**

The thing that made Tobio Kageyama the true bane of Tooru Oikawa’s existence was not his seemingly endless well of natural talent, nor his painfully inscrutable countenance, or even his persistent habit of obliterating Tooru’s dreams. It wasn’t even the fact that no matter how despicable he himself was, Kageyama refused to look at him with anything except respect and admiration.

It truly set his blood boiling that where he was too consumed with his own glaring shortcomings and the jealousy that he was being outmatched, Kageyama was able to openly seek guidance and training from those who were more skilled than him, even with badgering Oikawa himself.

Despite what had happened between them at Kitagawa, despite the fact that while Oikawa might never publicly admit it, he was probably the reason that the Cold King was born in the first place, Kageyama still lowered himself to seek out advice from Tooru. 

Literally. 

And if the picture hadn’t come out so blurry thanks to Takeru’s terrible photography skills he might have framed the memory. 

Purely out of spite, of course.

That event, and his own masochistic curiosity, was what had led him to sneak into the game between Karasuno and Shiratorizawa, just to huddle in the back row and glare a hole in Kageyama’s head. 

But it wasn’t the reason his skin felt as though it were on fire any time the setter happened to glance at the crowd- which was rare to begin with, since his dark blue eyes, narrowed and focused, rarely left the game. 

No, the thing about precious little Tobio-chan that made him truly intolerable was the fact that no matter where he was in a room, Tooru couldn’t seem to keep his attention away from him. 

It was infuriating. 

Iwaizumi had made fun of him about it for years, and today was no exception, especially since he’d been caught more than once, angling for a better view of the setter, or really, for a better view of his right leg.

Not that it enlightened him in any way. Kageyama’s scrapes had faded and with them, the Scabious flower that had adorned his own shin. Of course, he hadn’t actually seen Kageyama during that time so who’s to say if it actually matched him or not. 

And a wide black knee pad covered any trace of the flower he’d seen in that early morning light, burned into his memory and yet demanding to be confirmed by a second, preferably much more in depth, examination of it. Time had a way of messing with memory, it was only too easy to convince yourself of something after enough nights spent replaying the same scene over.

Not that he did that.

(Every day since it had occurred, exactly 23 days earlier, but who was counting, really.)

It could still be a coincidence. 

A timeout was called -something wrong with the tall, blond, and irritating blocker- and the team cleared the court. Knowing full well that Hajime was paying more attention to him than he let on, Oikawa didn’t huddle behind his legs the way he had earlier in the game.

He regretted it immediately.

Maybe it was because Kageyama had checked out of the game enough to become aware of the gaze that had been bearing down on him all night, or maybe it was just his own consistently terrible luck, but the setter pivoted on his heel and stared into the crowd with the same pinpoint accuracy that he tossed volleyballs with. Despite the distance between them, Kageyama’s eyes were dark and cold, an unreadable ocean threatening to crash down around him, collapsing his lungs and swallowing him beneath their intensity.

Someone squeaked in a very embarrassing fashion -certainly not him, of course- and he tore his eyes from Karasuno’s #9. Tooru ignored a poorly concealed snicker from the peanut gallery consisting of his best friend and passed his gaze over the crowd instead, pointedly continuing to not notice either pair of eyes that he could still feel scrutinizing him. 

Splashes of colour here and there drew his attention.

(Or maybe he was intentionally noticing them to avoid letting it wander back to Kageyama.)

A warm yellow tulip hugged the wrist of a woman stretching, rows ahead of him, distinctive petals curling into a pleasant cup shape that was easy to recognize even with the distance between them.

_There is sunshine in your smile._

Rhododendrons sprawled in a particularly eye catching cluster along a sharp jawline, a few seats past Iwa. Pale skin contrasted with flimsy crimped petals shaded in deep plum.

_Danger. Beware. I am dangerous to you._

Oikawa let his lips curve into a bitter smile aimed in the unlucky young man’s direction, feeling an odd sort of solidarity with the complete stranger. The idea made his skin prickle -although it really hadn't felt as though it fit right all day- so he rolled his shoulders to shake it off and moved on. 

A whistle blew as the game began again, and though it pained him to do so, Tooru focused his attention specifically on Shiratorizawa, if only to get Iwaizumi off his back. A flash of bright coral caught his eye, too orange but simultaneously too pink, and clashing horribly with wild red hair. The round blossom’s petals fanned out like a miniature sun perched above the brow of Satori Tendou, the middle blocker.

_Innocence._

Scowling at the venom flooding his veins, Oikawa tried not to think too hard about the fact that the other bane of his existence -he’d seen Shiratorizawa's ace up close too many times to miss the scar on his temple- had better luck than he ever would.

Ushijima’s soulmate was well within reach, even if he was a freak.

\---

**October 27th**

**To: Sugawara  
** **Sent 17:55** Back row, stupid glasses.  
**Received 18:08** Damn  
**Received 18:09** You’re going to take all our money, huh, Tsukishima

\---

**October 27th**

When Karasuno won, Tooru was not quite as bitter as he expected to be, and something stung in his chest that almost felt like the ghost of what he felt when _he_ won a game. It took a whole three seconds to decide he hated it. 

He made sure to make some choice comments about the win and hustled Hajime out of the gym before the awards could begin, with adamant complaints that he might vomit if he were forced to stay. But with each step he took in the opposite direction, the more his feet dragged against the ground as if weighed down by some invisible force that made him want to turn back. 

Oikawa hated that feeling even more. 

It only served to remind him that coincidence couldn’t explain away everything.

Claiming stomach issues, he ducked inside the next bathroom they passed, waving Iwaizumi on ahead of him with a plastic smile that the other very obviously did not believe. He’d only just made it to the sink and caught a glimpse of his reflection -washed out and disheveled in a way that was less charming and more shameful- when the door swung open behind him. 

Something hummed beneath his skin, buzzing as though there were a live wire gripped in his fist. Tooru jerked his head up, half expecting to see Iwa reflected behind him in the mirror. 

The electricity snaking beneath his skin intensified, singing in his ears as he found himself staring directly into the gaze he’d been avoiding all night. His stomach dropped, twisting painfully while a silent second stretched for eons. 

Kageyama was as impassive as ever, despite remaining rooted in the doorway without speaking a word. 

Clenching his jaw, Oikawa plastered on the flimsiest excuse for a smile he’d ever managed to muster, and spun around, shoulders stiff and not quite meeting the younger setter’s eyes. “Congratulations, Kageyama,” he said, barely above a whisper and not quite as emotionless or sarcastic as the boy in question expected, if the brief shock that flashed across his features was anything to go by.

Kageyama opened his mouth.

“Don’t.” Rather than wait for him to finish, Tooru made to abscond from the room and avoid further interaction. 

But his shitty luck continued to plague him relentlessly. He stumbled, crashing to the ground in a dazed heap, limbs bent awkwardly and knees aching from the impact with the tile. His body was trembling with the force of the vibrations racing through his veins, clustered specifically around the tattoos hidden beneath layers of clothing.

(The ones he’d been putting a lot of work into pretending did not exist.)

Tooru found a hand outstretched in his face and recoiled as if he were staring down the barrel of a gun. His hands scrambled for traction in the same puddle that had tripped him to begin with and a panicked whine tore itself from his throat. It took him a matter of seconds to pull himself up on shaky legs, arms wrapped across his torso protectively when he chanced a glance at Kageyama’s face. 

Only to find it eerily blank- even for the Cold King. 

Their eyes met again and an obvious shudder shook his shoulders. 

“Do you hate me so much that the idea of touching me disgusts you?” Kageyama’s voice was clipped and as carefully monotonous as it had ever been, but his eyes were dark, shining with barely concealed emotions that Oikawa was afraid to name. 

He didn’t answer, instead breaking eye contact and sprinting past Tobio before he managed to screw himself over even more. Each footfall slamming into the ground sent pain ricocheting up through his abused knees, but he didn’t pause until he was staggering into the parking lot and nearly ran into Iwaizumi, sweaty and panting with exhaustion. 

Hajime raised an eyebrow and gave him a suspicious look. “You wanna tell me what the fuck that was about?”

“I have no idea...what you could...be referring to.” Tooru gasped out between breaths, walking away from his best friend without checking to see if he followed.

He always did.

“Oh?” Iwaizumi asked, not sounding convinced in the slightest.

Oikawa didn’t respond, opting to act as though he hadn’t heard anything at all and instead focusing on putting as much distance between himself and Kageyama as he could. 

His friend caved when the silence stretched until it was uncomfortable. “Fine then, keep your secrets, Shittykawa.” 

Tooru didn’t bother to respond.

\---

**October 28th**

**To: (xxx)xxx-xxxx** **(Draft) 03:18** Hello Oikawa-san

**< Delete>**

\---

**October 28th**

Whether it was the emotional toll of the day or his desperation to escape the implications of what had happened, Tooru passed out moments after burying his face in his pillow. But his sleep was neither deep nor restful and only a few hours elapsed before his eyes snapped wide open.

His legs were _burning._

The skin stung with an invisible fire as he rocketed up and tore away the blankets wrapped around his limbs, finding no visible evidence of injury. Oikawa tumbled out of bed, legs trembling as they tried to support his weight, and let his pants fall away from his hips to pool around his ankles. 

Scarlet crossed his thighs, peeking from beneath the edge of his briefs. Curling his fingers beneath the fabric, he tugged it back and watched a long cluster of flowers bloom before his eyes, a fresh wave of white-hot agony arcing through him.

The thin blossoms stretching across his skin were as familiar as any other hammered into his memory by his Obaachan- Amaranths.

_Hopeless. Not heartless. Desertion._

As if that wasn’t a clear enough message on its own, the colloquial name for Amaranths echoed in his head like a siren song. 

Love-Lies-Bleeding.

Tooru barely made it to the bathroom before he gagged, chest heaving as his body purged itself amid an overload of panic. Suddenly, the washed out Dog Rose resting just above his heart, the one he’d been stubbornly ignoring since it appeared the same day as the Scabious, was a sickening truth painted on his skin. The soft pink petals were almost heart shaped, an innocent surface that did nothing to betray their meaning. 

_Pleasure. Pain._

And the even fainter Helenium painting his hips, sunset bursts of orange and yellow now partially obscured by the violent array of Amaranths, were no longer a mystery either. 

_Tears._

Although, if he was honest, he wasn’t sure they had been a mystery to begin with. Or at least, they wouldn’t have been if he’d let himself actually think about them for longer than three seconds. 

(But Tooru Oikawa was a fucking coward when it came down to it.)

(And no one wanted to think about their soulmate harming themselves.)

When the retching finally stopped, he slumped in a heap on the cool tile, realizing his cheeks were wet with tears he hadn’t known he was shedding. A cold sweat had broken out across his brow and left him shaking with chills, his fingers trembling so much he could barely type a message on his phone- which he didn’t remember grabbing in the first place. 

**To: Iwachan  
** **Sent 01:04** I need help

Moments later his phone buzzed to life in his grasp and Oikawa found himself staring blankly at the flashing screen signalling an incoming call.

**Iwachan**

**< Decline>** ****

**Received 01:06** don’t bitch button me, Shittykawa  
**Sent 01:06** Come over  
**Received 01:07** it’s the middle of the night, what’s the problem  
**Sent 01:07** Emergency  
**Received 01:09** the last time you said that it was a spider on your ceiling  
**Received 01:11** Tooru  
**Received 01:15** i’ll be there soon, don’t do anything stupid

Tooru kept his vacant gaze fixed on the tile wall opposite him. The pain finally ceased, but it’s sudden absence hollowed out his chest further, lungs gasping for air once again. He tore at the fabric on his thighs, baring the crimson slashes in the harsh light of the bathroom, and collapsed back against the wall. 

His flowers were still there. 

(Logically, he knew that unless the wounds mirroring his new tattoos were truly horrific, his soulmate would not be dying from them.)

(It didn’t soothe him in the slightest.) 

But before Oikawa could even begin to dissect the deeper implications of all the information he’d gained that night, his door swung open and Iwaizumi barreled in, skidding to a stop in the bathroom doorway.

They stared at each other, Oikawa’s vision still swimming with panic or nausea, and Iwa visibly sweaty and panting like a racehorse. 

“You’re not even bleeding, what’s the emergency?” Hajime growled, his brow furrowed fiercely, but his eyes were soft with concern. 

Tooru felt his face crumple before he could even begin to stifle his emotions, tears pricking like needles as they welled in the corners of his eyes and cut fresh tracks down his cheeks. He must have looked as pathetic as he felt because only seconds later he was being shifted over as Iwaizumi joined him on the tile floor, their shoulders pressed side by side. 

As per usual, his friend was slightly less than gentle. “Is this what has you upset?” Iwa asked, tapping a single finger against the Amaranths still partially on display.

Slapping a hand over the image -and cursing himself for his idiocy when the impact stung- Oikawa stuttered, tugging restlessly at the fabric of his briefs. “...There are more, I-”

“Do _not_ take off your pants.” Hajime snapped, with noticeably less bite than usual. “That’s what all this is? Your flowers? Is it-”

With a strangled whine, Tooru lunged to his feet, fleeing the bathroom and settling for pacing the rather short length of his room at a breakneck speed, swaying dangerously every time he turned. Whatever entirely too perceptive thing that Iwaizumi was about to say would likely reduce him to a form even more pathetic than he already was and neither of them would enjoy it.

Of course, his best friend had never been one to leave well enough alone, so his reprieve lasted mere seconds before Iwa had darted after him, gruff but not harsh when he growled. “We need to calm down before your mother barges in here wanting to know what your problem is.”

“This is not a 'we' situation, Hajime,” Oikawa snarled back before he could catch himself. His friend took a single step back, the surprise written on his features sending a heavy wave of shame to join the guilt already drowning him. Still incapable of sacrificing his pride, Tooru refocused his gaze on the floor and resumed pacing.Iwaizumi recovered quickly, surging back forward to grip his shoulders and shake. “It is now, dumbass! You asked me to come and now I’m here. I know you’ve got some weird shit about soulmates, but getting your flowers is more normal than not. It won’t kill you.” 

They stared at each other.

Again, logically, Oikawa knew that his friend was technically correct. But he was also missing a lot of the subtle nuance of the situation and as much as he wanted to defend himself, he wasn’t even ready to admit the truth out loud to _himself_ , much less Iwa- who’d insist he do the “right thing” and stop being a fucking pussy.

(And he really wouldn’t have a defense for that, since he was spending so much time specifically refusing to think about it at all.)

Whatever Hajime interpreted the silence to mean made him sigh, eventually releasing Tooru and raising a hand to the collar of his shirt, pulling aside the fabric to expose pale pink blossoms scattered in a crescent beneath his collar bone. “I’ve had this for almost two years now, I know you know that, and I’m fine.” 

He did know that, although they never talked about it. 

The day that Larkspur first appeared across his best friend’s skin was also the day that Tooru had officially decided soulmates were fake. He’d never formed a lasting or significant connection with anyone but Iwa, they’d been a matched set for years, practically attached at the hip and finishing each other’s sentences.

_Fickleness. Levity._

Sixteen year old Tooru Oikawa was not quite as carefully controlled as the current version, and he had not taken very well to the news that the only person he’d ever considered soulmate material was definitively not his. 

He hated losing. 

(Especially when it turned out he was doomed from the start.)

It took him a solid three days to get over himself and talk to Iwaizumi again, but they never mentioned his flowers. Oikawa put on his most polished mask and swore to himself that it didn’t matter, that he didn’t want a soulmate, he’d always said so. 

Somehow the sight of the petals, so very like the ones curling above his heart as they spoke, mattered more now, when he had a soulmate anyway. 

It mattered because for the first time he didn’t care that Hajime wasn’t his soulmate. He was too busy talking himself out of sprinting into the night to save his “predestined other half” from himself.

Except he didn’t know where he was.

And also Tobio hated his guts. As evidenced by the truly glaring reminder painted on his skin. 

(His stomach twisted and briefly -bitterly- he wondered when he’d managed to become the posterboy for self-loathing.)

“It’s my fault,” Tooru finally muttered, breaking the heavy silence that had thickened between them. 

Coincidence had died its painful death and he wasn’t suffering illusions any longer, even if he wasn’t ready to voice the truth.

“What? Not everything revolves around you all the time, idiot,” Iwa scolded, brow furrowing into the beginnings of a glower. “People get scars and stuff, that’s life. Again, I know that you, of all people, know that.” 

He was right, again, technically, because he’d personally listened to hours of complaints about the scar twisting the skin on Oikawa’s knee. 

“No, I-” Tooru ran a hand through his hair, shoving damp strands away from his forehead and tugging at the collar of his own shirt, until the Dog Rose became visible. “This is old.” Then he yanked up his shorts to bare the Amaranths, practically glowing with the intensity of their freshness- almost as if they were actually bleeding. “These are not. And they’re _my_ fault, Iwa.”

“Is it-”

Tooru cut him off, voice cracking with barely concealed panic rather than hostility. “Don’t.” 

He didn't know for sure what his friend had intended to ask, but he didn't have any answers to begin with. 

Hajime went quiet, not visibly reacting as he studied the flowers. After a long moment he sighed and pinned Oikawa with the sort of scrutinizing glare that always made him feel as though his friend could see right through him, no matter how carefully he constructed his mask.

(And today his mask was damn near cracking in half.)

  
  


\----

**December 19th**

**To: Iwaizumi  
** **Sent 14:47** Why is Oikawa up my ass about Kageyama, I thought we were past this   
**Received 14:53** shittykawa is too much of a pussy to ask his soulmate himself that’s why  
**Sent 14:53** >.>  
**Sent 14:54** Not exactly subtle, is he  
**Received 15:07** he has the emotional maturity of a volleyball  
**Sent 15:12** That’s probably why he and Kageyama are soulmates  
**Received 15:32** Kunimi, i’ll pay you to say that to his face

\---

**December 22nd**

December 22nd dawned on an entirely unremarkable Saturday, a day with an overcast sky and a biting breeze that kept the streets quiet. In theory it was exactly the kind of day for laying around enjoying the quiet luxury of a boring afternoon. 

The problem was, Tooru never made a habit of making healthy choices and he’d spent the time between the night his Amaranths appeared and the present driving himself out of his mind. The flowers had only somewhat faded, even after 56 days, which spoke something of Tobio’s self destructive habits.

(And each time he saw them was a painful reminder of his own shortcomings.)

Two weeks of looking at the crimson slashes convinced him that both himself and his unfortunate soulmate were better off not interacting if that would be one of the inevitable consequences. 

A month after that he heard Kageyama had been invited to the All-Japan Youth Intensive Training Camp. It was far from the first time that the younger setter had “beaten” him in some way.

But it was the first time that it didn’t set his blood boiling.

(Some might even argue that the trembling warmth in his chest could even be called pride.) 

Of course, that turned sour exactly a week later when Kunimi told him all about the camp and mentioned offhandedly that Kageyama and Atsumu Miya had apparently hit it off in some way.

(It was only the very last shred of his pride that overpowered the slimy jealousy immediately poisoning his veins and kept him from pumping his teammate for information he didn’t have.)

Instead, he’d devoted entirely too much time to finding out Kageyama’s birthday, which he recalled to be in December, even if the exact date escaped him, and had failed repeatedly in his attempts to do so without assistance. Which is to say, he’d ended up calling Iwa and spent twenty minutes meandering his way to actually asking. 

His best friend had the audacity to laugh so hard that he began to wheeze.

Tooru had hung up on him.

(Of course, Iwachan _had_ texted him the date a few minutes later, so it wasn’t a total loss, humiliating though it was.) 

In any case, by the time the day actually arrived, Oikawa’s tension was palpable. He couldn’t sit still for longer than a few minutes, anxious energy sending him on multiple runs a day to render himself too exhausted to think. The first rays of sunlight pouring through his window forced him out of bed, brimming with excess energy and nothing to do with it. 

Up until that point, he hadn’t allowed himself to really consider why knowing mattered. Especially when he’d already decided that they were better off not knowing and not seeing each other- and it wasn’t like he had a gift or something to give to Tobio. 

(No, all he’d managed to give his soulmate was grief and a few new scars, a far cry from the doting and attentive version of himself that he’d imagined he’d be, before he’d abandoned the idea of soulmates.)

(Before he’d specifically abandoned Kageyama.)

Guilt ached in his chest, familiar after weeks of persistently torturing himself because no matter how much effort he put into convincing himself that it didn’t matter and he didn’t care, his mind would inevitably wander back to Tobio and the cycle would repeat. 

The concept of literally running from his problems- both in the sense that he continued to turn tail like a coward at the sight of his soulmate and the daily sprints to escape his own thoughts- was almost more humiliating than anything else. 

Of course, that didn’t stop him, because the only one truly witnessing that humiliation was him, and perhaps, Iwaizumi, who did not count anyway because he refused to discuss with him after being laughed at. 

Tooru heaved a sigh as he hauled himself up and pulled on a pair of sweatpants, moving mechanically through his new morning routine until his feet were pounding the pavement once more and he was barreling through the streets with little direction, only a driving need to _go._ Without noticing, his feet led him along the same path he’d taken months earlier, one he’d specifically avoided since. 

His breath puffed into the air in thick clouds, the air bordering on frigid this early in the morning, racing into his lungs with a biting fury that left his throat raw. Leaves crunching underfoot drew his attention, lurching him back to the present. 

It happened almost in slow motion.

His foot caught on the root of a tree as he turned, ankle twisting painfully. 

And then Tooru was falling. 

Gravel tore at the hand that barely managed to save his face from a similar fate, stinging bitterly. He levered himself upright and blinked, dazed from the whole affair. 

There was a hand in his face.

(It felt oddly familiar.)

He tracked his gaze up to find Tobio bending over him, hand outstretched and brow furrowed in something like what he’d imagine concern would look like on his old kouhai’s face. But it was just the two of them here so that didn’t quite make sense.

But the light of the rising sun silhouetted his fated other half in relief that was harsh but somehow managed to soften his sharp features into gentleness. 

Maybe he was dreaming. 

Oikawa reached for the hand, his fingers grazing Tobio’s palm before they closed around his wrist and he was being hauled back to his feet. Belatedly, he hissed in pain at the pressure applied to his freshly scraped hand and released his grip on Kageyama to check on the minor but ugly wound. 

It wasn’t bleeding very much, although it would need to be cleaned of the gravel and dirt smeared across and in his skin. 

“Are you okay, Oikawa-san?” Tobio’s voice was soft, monotonous as usual but almost hesitant. 

Tooru froze, feeling as though he’d wandered onto a frozen lake and plummeted through the ice into the abyss beneath. His lungs constricted painfully, leaving him struggling to breath and stumbling back, clarity finally descending upon him.

Kageyama reached after him with the hand he’d used to help him, Oikawa’s blood staining the palm, and they both watched, paralyzed, as white petaled flowers streaked with bright crimson bloomed across his skin, exactly where Tooru’s hand continued to bleed. 

Striped Carnations

_No._

_Refusal._

_Sorry, I can’t be with you._

_I wish I could be with you._

Cutting his eyes to Tobio’s face, he found the younger boy was already watching him, perfectly still and coldly inscrutable. Tooru took another step back, tucking his hand against his chest and babbling. “I-Uh-I have to go.”

Kageyama lunged forward, gripping his uninjured arm gently but firmly. “You knew?” It was spoken so plainly that he almost didn’t understand what the younger setter was saying.

Half his problem might have been that he hadn’t been quite this close to Tobio Kageyama in a very long time and something about the pale dusting of freckles across his nose was making his heart stagger painfully, which was terribly distracting. 

“I-”

Tobio’s face twisted, tightening his grasp and nearly growling, “You knew and you what? Hated me so much you couldn’t bear the idea of me being your soulmate so you just decided to ignore it?”

“No!” Oikawa yelped, gaping at him in shock, unable to force out anything else. 

Kageyama released his hold on Tooru’s arm, shoving him away and turning to leave. “Forget it,” He spat. 

“Wait!” Tooru stumbled after him, mimicking Tobio’s earlier actions and pulling him back. A defensive fury washed over him and he lowered his face until they were nose to nose, snapping, “Of course I knew, how could I not know? After you pulled this shit?” He yanked Tobio even closer and let a hand drop to grip the outside of his thigh, squeezing tight enough to make his point, but not enough to hurt. 

Kageyama visibly cringed, squaring his shoulders and staring stubbornly past Oikawa as if he couldn’t see him. “Old habits, I didn’t think until after it was too late.”

“Were you thinking at all?” Tooru snarled, regretting it even before Tobio’s face went dark and closed off, any crack in his armor immediately sealing. 

Tobio wasn’t quite so effective at masking his voice and the venom stung more than the regret. “Fuck off, it’s none of your business anyway.” 

But he didn’t try to leave again.

Oikawa opened his mouth to protest and then snapped it shut with an audible crack, staring down at Kageyama as he wrestled with himself. 

Tobio knew the truth, he couldn’t hide from him anymore.

(And he was too terrified of waking up with burning skin to even consider running now.) 

Abruptly realizing that they were still mere inches apart, he took a step back, but kept his grip on Kageyama’s arm firm, in case _he_ decided to try to run this time. 

Tooru sighed, tipping his head back to stare up through the canopy of trees at the still entirely too overcast and dreary sky. “I-I know I’m an ass. I know that I’m just a real piece of fucking shit whose a little too good at using people and not caring about the consequences. And you’ve always looked at me like I’m supposed to be something great, but I’m not even a fraction of what you think I am and I don’t know how to do this, do anything. I don’t know how to lo-” 

Oikawa choked on his own tongue, his blood turning leaden with dread at what he’d almost said and leaving him praying silently that Tobio was still as dense as ever. He plunged on, a nervous laugh bubbling from his chest without humor. “I didn’t even know, not really, not for _sure,_ until I woke up in the middle of the night after Shiratorizawa with new flowers.” Pausing as the memory brought the same guilt and phantom pain it always did, Tooru dropped his head and squeezed his eyes shut before Kageyama could catch his gaze and make him chicken out of his confession. “And I knew they were my fault.” 

He didn’t pause long enough for Tobio to interject. “And I’m not whimpering here like a pathetic excuse of a person, expecting you to comfort me for _your_ pain that _I_ caused. I don’t want you to pity me and tell me I’m not so bad, because I know I am. I always kind of knew and it just didn’t really matter so long as I got what I wanted and I-I wanted you to hurt...until you did, and I realized that maybe everyone was right all along. Maybe I am the devil and maybe I do destroy people, but I don’t want to destroy you.” Oikawa’s lungs burned and his mouth felt dry and gritty, but he couldn’t seem to stop talking to save his life.

(I didn’t know how to tell you because I was afraid of destroying us both, he doesn’t say.)

“You’re a million times better than I could ever be, in any and every way, and I’m...nothing like you. So I wanted to let you go, because I don’t deserve you and you definitely don't deserve to be stuck with me. But I’m jealous and selfish and not seeing you was driving me crazy too, so here I am, fucking things up all over again and it’s your birthday and-”

“What makes me so special?” Tobio cut in bluntly, bringing him to a screeching halt.

“What?” Tooru jerked his head up and met his gaze for a fraction a second before tearing it away again, still breathless from his rambling speech. 

Fixing him with a look that was almost condescending and definitely annoyed, Kageyama repeated each word slowly and deliberately. “Why do you think I’m so special?” 

He didn’t even have to consider his answer. Despite spending so much time shutting himself down over the months since he first discovered who his soulmate was -and if he was honest, even before that- Tooru Oikawa had always spent too much time thinking about Tobio Kageyama. 

And everyone seemed to know it.

(Except for Tobio, that is.)

“I have never, in the entire time I’ve known you, been fair to you,” Oikawa said, letting his honesty bleed into his words. “I’ve been everything from obnoxious to downright malicious and you’ve never been anything but respectful and balanced no matter what I subjected you to. You kept coming back, over and over and over, whether I praised you or kicked you when you were down.” 

Tooru continued avoiding eye contact, running his free hand across the back of his neck and tugging at his hair. “I don’t know how to be kind. The closest relationship I have is with Iwa and he’s more my family than anyone else and honestly? I don’t think I ever learned how to love.”

He fell quiet, swallowing hard to choke down his anxious nausea, and finally lifting his eyes to meet Tobio’s again. “But sometimes I look at you and I think I could try.”

Tense silence choked out even the soft breeze and birdsong as they stared at each other, not even seeming to breath. 

Kageyama opened his mouth, shut it, and took a step forward. 

Then pain exploded in Oikawa’s jaw, stars flashing in his vision as he found himself on the ground once more, staring up at Tobio shaking out his hand. Tooru dabbed at his mouth and gasped when it stung, the hand coming away bloody. 

It would definitely bruise. 

He looked up to find a hand outstretched, and he didn’t hesitate to take it in his dazed state.

“Yeah, okay.” Tobio breathed, pulling him to his feet- again. 

Tooru barely heard him, too focused on the flowers sprouting from nothing to dot Kageyama’s skin like snowflakes as he spoke. 

The white violets clustered along Tobio’s bottom lip, no doubt mirroring his own fresh wound, and the sight of his own desperate yearning literally painted on his soulmate’s face nearly made his heart stop. Its awkward staccato leaving him gasping for air.

_Let’s take a chance on happiness._

How humiliatingly transparent. 

“What?” he managed to wheeze out, eyes dropping to Kageyama’s hand, knuckles bruising and even split open, a thin trail of blood tracing along one of his fingers. 

“I said yes. We can try.” 

It was nearly toneless, each word spoken evenly and without hesitation, but it was probably the most beautiful thing that he’d ever heard in his life. Tooru’s head jerked up to meet Tobio’s gaze with an audible crack, searching his unreadable ocean eyes for any indication that he might be lying. 

As if Kageyama knew how to be anything but obnoxiously genuine. 

What he found was just the barest hint of softness around the edges of his former rival’s impenetrable mask, a softness that left him lacking his typical aura of intimidation. It was something earnest, and maybe a little scared, but open.

The last time Tobio had looked at him like that, Oikawa had been fifteen and so preoccupied with his own ego that he’d made the wrong choice. He wouldn’t repeat that mistake, not when the person he’d personally hurt more than anyone else was willing to give him a second chance. 

Not when that person was _his._

“Oh.” Tooru ducked his head, unable to hold Tobio’s gaze any longer, and his eyes caught on a fresh spray of periwinkle flowers with sunny yellow centers dotting his knuckles. 

Forget-Me-Nots.

_True Love. Memories._

“Oh,” he repeated, voice dropping to a whisper as he shifted from one foot to another, suddenly more unsure of himself than he’d ever been in his life. 

But this was his second chance.

A smile curved his lips, gentle and hesitant, nothing like the carefully constructed mask he normally plastered on. It was probably the most genuine expression he’d made in a long time. “Um, hi. I’m Tooru Oikawa, I’m your soulmate. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” A nervous laugh garbled his words, but he didn’t let it deter him, dropping his head in a bow.

A second passed before Kageyama chuckled dryly, startling Tooru into looking back up at him. “To be fair, I didn’t tell you either.”

Oikawa jerked upright and gaped at him incredulously. “You _knew?_ ”

“You’re the only person I know with a knee injury.” Tobio replied, shrugging as if he'd said something entirely normal and not that he'd been perfectly aware that they were soulmates for as long or perhaps even longer than Tooru himself. “I knew for sure after the Shiratorizawa game. The buzzing.” 

Tipping his head back and inhaling sharply through his nose, Tooru fought back the urge to roll his eyes. “Kiss me before I say something mean.”

“What?” Kageyama started, blinking owlishly up at him from beneath his bangs. 

Unable to help himself, Tooru rolled his eyes, pouting dramatically. “I _said-_ ”

The air being knocked from his lungs interrupted his thought, and he plummeted to the ground _again_. Luckily for him, there was no gravel underfoot this time.

Unluckily for him, Tobio was what had knocked him to the ground in the first place, landing heavily across his chest and leaving him seeing stars in a terribly unpleasant way for the second time in only a few minutes. Their limbs were tangled together hopelessly, and Oikawa could barely breathe, but he tipped his head back into the grass and laughed. 

The physical weight of Kageyama forcing the air from his lungs was somehow so much better than letting the emotional weight of avoiding him do it, which sounded stupid and he’d never say it aloud, but it was certainly true. 

Tooru could feel Tobio attempting to right himself and untangle their limbs, and when he glanced at him, he found an unusually expressive look of perplexion on his features and his cheeks flushed a bright pink.

“S-sorry, Oikawa-san,” he stuttered out, still struggling to extricate himself from Oikawa’s limbs- which were being particularly stubborn since he saw no reason to let him up in the first place.

Tooru let his hands drift up to cradle Tobio’s jaw, biting back a smug grin when he immediately stilled under his touch. “No need to apologize, just make it up to me,” he purred, letting his voice drop to just above a whisper. “First, you can start by never calling me Oikawa-san, _ever_ again.” 

With a furrowed brow and what was very nearly a scowl, Kageyama bit back, “Then wha-”

“ _Second_ ,” Tooru continued as if he hadn’t heard him speak at all, “You can do what I assume you were trying to do that landed us on the ground and actually kiss me.” 

He didn’t actually wait for Tobio to process what he’d said before he tugged him down and sealed their lips together, catching his soulmate by surprise and silencing a startled yelp. Kageyama froze for a second that stretched too long, but just as Tooru pulled back, he surged forward, chasing after him. 

Every inch of his body was burning, each nerve ending misfiring with overstimulation as Tobio ripped away his careful control with every dominating kiss, bruising his split lip and leaving him violently aware of every point of contact between them. 

Tobio’s knees pressed on either side of his thighs as he broke the kiss, both of them gasping for air. 

One of Tobio’s hands sliding up to weave his fingers into Tooru’s hair, tugging harshly to tip his head back and bare his neck. Before descending upon the sensitive skin of his jaw with a mix of sharp nips and feather light brushes of his lips against the bruising flesh. 

(And he was certainly _not_ making embarrassing squeaking noises.)

After traveling the length of his jaw, Tobio pressed a final, gentle kiss to his lips, chaste but lingering compared to those that preceded it, and leaned back. 

Wild pink petals had joined the miniature violets -suggesting that Tooru was bleeding yet again, although he couldn’t find it in himself to care- layered together in hypnotic circles. Peonies.

_Bashfulness. Passion._

_Good fortune._

Maybe he was lucky after all. 

\---

**December 31st**

**Group Message (8 Recipients) 23:15** who had money on the grand king

\---

**January 1st**

**To: saltyshima  
** **Received 23:17** Pay up, Shrimp.  
**Sent 23:20** T.T u cheated  
**Sent 23:21** how did u know   
**Received 23:25** I have eyes  
**Sent 23:26** u wear glasses  
**Received 23:42** And yet, I apparently have better vision than you.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope y'all enjoyed it!!!


End file.
